The student’s life seems to be characterized by constant moving. I keep record in my head of the places I’ve lived by the sound of their doors.
At Memo, I can still hear the card swipe, the thunk of the bolt sliding free, and the whirr of the handicap button opening the door.
I hear the soft clicking of the old silver buttons. Late at night, almost lulled to sleep by the bells and the screech of the train, I hear the loud creak, the pause, and the muffled, double THUMP thump of the bathroom door.
In my first apartment, my roommates always surprise me when they come home. Sitting in silence, concentrating on homework, I hear the soft metallic whirr of the electronic mechanism and then the sharp, loud THWACK of the lock.
Now I file away new sounds: the beep that lets me know the gate has gratefully accepted my key, the soft squeak of every door in my apartment.
Lift up your heads, O you gates;
be lifted up, you ancient doors,
that the King of glory may come in!
– Psalm 24:7